


Affection

by silveriris



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Jackanda, Mass Effect Femslash Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveriris/pseuds/silveriris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the party at Shepard’s apartment Miranda and Jack meet for a drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Affection

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Mass Effect is not mine.  
> A/N: I apologise if this is terrible. I’ve been in a bad shape lately. I wanted to finish this fic because I promised myself I’d do something for ME Femslash Week on tumblr.  
> This is an interpretation of Miranda’s scene from the Citadel DLC; she doesn’t meet with Shep but with Jack instead.  
> Comments & constructive criticism always welcome.

 

Miranda Lawson is perfect. She was engineered to be the very definition of human perfection. That was the first things Jack learned about her.

Miranda Lawson is perfect, it’s a fact. But it's only now that Jack understands the meaning behind these words. She's looking– no, _staring_ right at Miranda who’s standing at the door. While Jack is wearing her usual clothes, the other woman wears a long, red dress.

_She's wearing a fucking dress!!!_ , something inside Jack screams in panic, and she prays she won't start screaming as well. It’s enough that one of the security guys gave her a look as if she was about to steal something when she got here. She doesn’t need people staring at her in shock, whispering, _See this lady? She just lost it. But what can you expect from someone who looks like that._ So Jack slowly counts to ten in her head, forcing herself to stay calm.

They were supposed to meet here for a drink. Like normal people do, apparently. There was nothing about wearing a dress. This particular dress. What the hell is wrong with this piece of completely impractical clothing that people should _not_ wear for a _casual_ meeting!?

Miranda's gaze finally finds her, and Jack has to resist the temptation to run. Because suddenly she understands what a mouse feels when facing from a cat.

Although she's had a drink or two already Jack can't blame the alcohol, not this time. She feels completely sober, almost too sober, as if someone woke her up from a deep slumber. Or maybe it's just she never noticed that Miranda Lawson is perfect. She does have fantastic tits, but that Jack already knows.

Miranda is walking towards her, looking absolutely stunning. Jack feels her cheek twitch. She grabs her glass to quickly finish her drink.

_It's all Shepard's fault, like always_ , she thinks, waving at the bartender. She feels safer somehow when there's a full bottle standing right next to her.

“Hello,” Miranda says, sitting down next to her, completely oblivious to the turmoil inside Jack's head. “I see you've already started.”

“Yeah, well, this place's boring. Drinking seems like the best option,” Jack shrugs, trying to sound casual.

“Just don’t get completely wasted, I don’t intend to carry you back to your apartment,” Miranda waves at the bartender; a glass and a bottle of wine magically appears in front of her.

“You’re _so_ funny,” Jack mumbles.

_I’m in hell_ , she decides, trying to look everywhere but at Miranda’s cleavage.

Talking about Shepard seems like the safest option (they won’t talk about the weather, that would be pathetic), so they talk, mainly about the party Shepard organised the other day. It was great to see all of them again, Jack has to admit. And talking to Miranda instead of threatening to kill her actually seems nice.

Miranda, however, seems rather uncomfortable.

“You look like you’d rather be somewhere else,” Jack points out. “Having second thoughts about inviting me for a drink?”

Miranda blinks in surprise. When she looks at Jack, her eyes seem huge. “No! Of course I don’t! Don’t be stupid. It’s  just… People around us are so… normal. Dancing, drinking, doing whatever they want. I'm not used to _normal_. Feeling a bit lost,” she lets out a sigh. “It's kind of sad, really.”

Their eyes meet, Miranda looks a bit guilty. There's a small voice in Jack's mind ordering her to laugh in Miranda's face for all the things she said and done when working for Cerberus. When they met for the first time, Jack felt nothing but hatred for yet another perfect soldier serving the organization that destroyed Jack's life. It was easy to hate Miranda Lawson. She represented everything Jack truly despised.

Now, however... Jack isn't sure what she feels, but she won't laugh at the woman who is looking at her with this sad little smile.

“You know what's gonna help you?” Jack grabs the bottle. She has to keep herself busy or else she'll overthink everything that's happening with her right now.

“Let's drink.”

She fills their glasses with wine, and the other woman nods.

“What Shepard said earlier...” Miranda begins, tracing the rim of her glass with her index finger.

“Yeah?” Jack mumbles, feeling hot blush spreading on her face.

_Honestly, I thought it might help if you two just kissed and got over it_. Shepard says the dumbest things sometimes, yet _this_ is something Jack keeps thinking about. If Miranda mentions it now...

“About having a normal live,” the woman continues, and Jack pretends she doesn't feel a pang of disappointment.

“I'm not very good at this,” Miranda waves her hand. “I'm not good at being normal. A bit of disaster, really.”

All Jack always heard about Miranda was how perfect she was in everything. Knowing that Miranda has worries should make Jack happy, because Miss Perfect isn’t so perfect after all. It doesn’t. Listening to her as she talks about her insecurities feels strange. It proves Miranda is a regular person like everyone else.

“Well, we're not _girly girls_ , you know,” Jack says, glancing at her companion. “I mean, look at me, I’m as far as you can get from a girly girl. But let me tell you, being a psychotic biotic is better.”

Miranda chuckles. “Psychotic biotic? I thought you hate this nickname.”

Jack shrugs. “I’ve had worse. At least the kids think it’s funny.”

“Right, your students. I… I told you this before but I do think it’s amazing what you do for them,” it’s Miranda’s turn to stare at her glass, avoiding her companion’s eyes. “You genuinely care about them. It’s something I… Well, this is going to sound incredibly silly, laugh all you want. It’s something I admire about you. After all you’ve been through you still can find good in people.”

Jack wants to say something witty and clever, but her mind is suddenly empty. Something inside her twists, it’s like a hot coal somewhere deep inside her gut.

“Enough with this sappy shit!” she says, louder than she intended. “Let’s drink, Lawson. The night is still young!”

Miranda laughs. Her face is a bit flushed. She smiles, raising her glass.

“Let’s drink.”

When they finally leave the place hours later Jack isn’t sure how much wine she had. Wine _and_ something else because at one point Miranda suggested they order some fancy drinks with umbrellas and swirly straws, just for fun.

 “I’m sooo going to have the worst hangover in the history of hangovers,” Miranda whispers to her ear as if it was the biggest secret in the whole galaxy. “But you know what? I don’t care!”

“As long as you don't use biotics while drunk, you're good. Trust me. Been there, done that...”

Miranda laughs. It's odd, seeing her like this, so careless and happy; the only side of Miranda Jack ever knew was the always serious Cerberus agent.

Perhaps she wants to see more of this Miranda who talks to her like they’re just two girls who met for a drink, not like she's her mortal enemy.

She has to hold Miranda so they won't fall on their pretty faces because they are massively drunk. They surely look like a walking disaster. Miranda is clinging to Jack, her drunken mumbling nearly impossible to understand. She’s telling a story of  Shepard’s hamster. Apparently it’s the funniest story in the world because she’s giggling like crazy.

_Her perfume is quite nice_ , Jack muses.

Miranda laughs again, then turns her head to the side to look Jack in the eyes. Her eyes are glistening, face is flushed, lips opened in a small 'o'. She's far from her usual calm and collected self, and yet she looks more perfect than ever.

Jack can't hardly notice they aren't walking anymore. They stopped in the middle of the street. But it doesn't matter. What's important is that Miranda is looking at her and her only. Jack takes a breath, feeling something like magic in the air.

Perhaps she'll to regret this in the morning. She's willing to try, at least.

Jack pulls Miranda closer, before she can hesitate, before the voice inside her head can convince her it's madness. Miranda is soft and warm; she's everything Jack is not, and when they finally kiss Jack can't decide if she's stupid or brave for doing something she never knew she wanted so much.

It’s difficult to let go as if the connection between was keeping her alive. When Jack reluctantly stops, the guilt washes over her. But it felt good. She doesn’t have many precious moments to remember. She’ll treasure the memory of kissing Miranda Lawson no matter how hard she’s going to regret it later.

The slap she believes she deserves never comes. In fact, Miranda seems surprised but calm, looking at Jack with something very close to fascination. Jack opens her mouth to say something, perhaps apologise, but she can’t say anything, her emotions so jumbled she feels dizzy.

“Oh.” It's all Miranda has to say.

Jack swears in her thoughts. Realising she's still holding the other woman, she quickly takes a step back. Something inside her nearly howls in anguish when the connection is lost.

“I should get a cab,” Miranda mumbles. “There's no way I'm walking all the way to my apartment.”

Certainly this is not what Jack expects to hear. Miranda looks around as if nothing happened, while Jack stares at her more confused than ever.

_That was the dumbest fucking thing I've ever done_ , she thinks, panicked, blushing furiously. She'll never speak of it again. Providing Miranda won't tell anyone. She will, Jack is sure. And everyone will laugh at her for doing something so incredibly stupid, how dumb she is for thinking that kissing the cheerleader was a good idea.

“There's a cab,” Miranda points at something but Jack is too busy falling into a pit of self-loathing and embarrassment to pay attention.

“Oh, and Jack?”

Only when Miranda reaches out to touch her face, Jack realises the other woman is smiling. Miranda leans in, her lips brush Jack's in a tender kiss. It's over before Jack can comprehend what's going on.

“I’m glad I invited you for a drink. It was fun,” Miranda says, tracking Jack's jaw with her fingertip. “Have a good night.”

Jack is unable to move. She's quite sure someone glued her to the spot where she's standing when she wasn't looking. She observes Miranda as she walks away and gets inside a cab.

Minutes pass. After taking few calming breaths Jack finally moves. As she walks to her apartment she’s wobbling only a little.

 

* * *

 

The next day she gets a text.

_Are you free tomorrow? Same place. Meet you at 8._

Jack is quite sure she's seeing things. She stares at the screen for so long without blinking her eyes water, just to make sure the words are, in fact, real. It's unclear how the hell Miranda got her number, but then again it's _Miranda fucking Lawson_ who always gets whatever she needs.

Once she calms down, Jack replies with a simple _k meet u there_ , even though she wants to scream. Or lie down on the ground and never get up. Or possibly both.

Hopefully Miranda wears that red dress again.

 


End file.
